$200,000

Phoebe sat in the car, anxiously waiting. She kept glancing toward the distance, silently praying that Curitis would return safely.

The events of the day were terrifying, and the mysterious people they encountered filled her with fear. The suppressed memories from her past resurfaced, dragging her into a pit of darkness. The unsettling gaze of that man earlier left her deeply uneasy.

"Merle, do you think someone is targeting Mr. Curitis? Could they be part of a terrorist group?"

"It's possible... but Phoebe, don't overthink it. He'll be fine. Let's wait here for him." Merle tried to comfort Phoebe, though he, too, was still shaken by what had happened. They could do nothing but wait for Curitis to return—only then would they know what was going on.

Suddenly, the sound of an approaching car broke the silence.

Phoebe's heart raced as she looked outside—Curitis was back.

"Did they hurt you?" The group rushed forward, anxious to see if he was okay. Seeing him unharmed, they finally let out a breath of relief.

"I'm fine," Curitis reassured them.

"Are you sure?" Phoebe's voice trembled with concern, still worried about him.

Curitis met Phoebe's eyes, gently stroking her head. His smile was tender, sweeping away the tension from earlier. He felt a warm stir in his heart, knowing Phoebe was worried about him. "Really, I'm fine."

"So, can we leave now?" Phoebe asked.

"What did those people want?" Merle asked, relieved but curious after the scare.

"Nothing serious, just an old acquaintance catching up." Curitis shrugged it off with a casual smile, avoiding the details. Sensing he didn't want to elaborate, the others didn't press further.

A week later, Curitis and his team returned to France.

Phoebe, however, did not go with them. Her life returned to its usual calm routine—uneventful and simple. She slowly began to forget the frightening events of that night.

***

One day, while in class, Phoebe received a call from her mother, Hermosa.

"Phoebe, come home quickly—something's happened," Hermosa's voice was choked with sobs on the other end of the line.

"Mom, what's wrong? Take your time and tell me," Phoebe asked, her heart sinking as she sensed something terrible.

"Phoebe, your father had a heart attack. He's in the hospital right now, and we don't know if he'll make it. Please come back..."

The words hit Phoebe like a bomb, detonating inside her chest. Her mother's sobs only deepened the dread clawing at her.

"How could this happen? How could this happen?" Phoebe muttered to herself in disbelief.

"Mom, don't worry, I'll be there soon."

When Phoebe arrived at the hospital, Hermosa looked utterly broken—exhausted, aged, and consumed by worry. Phoebe's heart ached to see her mother like this.

"Phoebe, what are we going to do?" Hermosa's tearful voice broke through her thoughts.

Hearing her mother's cries, Phoebe's heart tightened painfully.

Forcing herself to stay strong, she reassured her mother, "Mom, don't worry. No matter what happens, we'll get through this. We've survived worse before, and we'll survive this too."

"Where's Dad?" Phoebe asked, her voice hoarse.

"He's in the operating room... We don't know if he'll make it," Hermosa said, tears streaming down her face.

Phoebe's eyes reddened as she looked at the closed doors of the emergency room. Her heart ached, but she knew she had to stay strong. Her parents needed her.

"Mom, Dad's going to be okay," she said softly, her voice filled with both hope and determination.

"Phoebe, what are we going to do? Gordon...," Hermosa broke down again, crying uncontrollably as she explained everything.

Gordon had started using drugs again. This time, he had racked up $500,000 in debt to a loan shark, and if they didn't repay it within a week, her brother's life would be in danger.

Phoebe's mind buzzed with the repeated words, Gordon's using drugs again... and $500,000 in debt.... Her heart clenched. How could they possibly come up with that kind of money?

Two hours later, the light above the emergency room door finally turned off. Phoebe and Hermosa waited, their hearts suspended in terror.

The doors opened, and a doctor in a white coat walked out, his expression serious.

"Are you the patient's family?" he asked.

"I'm his daughter," Phoebe replied quickly.

"The patient's condition is stable for now," the doctor said.

Phoebe felt an overwhelming sense of relief, her tensed body finally relaxing. Beside her, Hermosa also seemed to ease up a little. But before they could fully recover, the doctor spoke again, plunging them back into despair.

"However, there's still a risk. His brain is under pressure from a blood clot. Without a second surgery, he could end up in a vegetative state."

"H-How much will the surgery cost?" Phoebe asked, her voice shaky.

"$200,000," the doctor replied.

"Mom... Mom..." Phoebe's voice trembled as she turned to her mother, who had collapsed on the ground.

"Doctor, help my mom!" Phoebe cried out, tears spilling down her face uncontrollably.

Under the dim hospital lights, Phoebe slumped against the wall, tears streaming down her face. Her shadow cast on the floor was small, helpless, and filled with despair.